dodging arrows may be in your future
by etotheswan
Summary: It's not how fast you run, it's how you run. Part 2 of 4 of the series: It Wasn't Supposed to be This Way.


**A/N: I was asked a couple of times if I was going to continue Sometimes a Freight Train Hits You, so I thought, what the hell? :) Hope you like it!**

Part 2 of _Sometimes a Freight Train Hits You_

**Dodging Arrows May Be In Your Future**

The next time you see her it's on a Tuesday.

It's been a long couple of days. So long, in fact that when your head hits the pillow at night, all you see and feel are her lips on yours and the way her teeth grabbed onto your bottom lip. _And fuck it all_. You never want to feel another thing in your life because nothing _will ever compare_. How many times have you kissed people? You try to tally them up. It's a lot. A lot more than you ever thought you'd have to tally. But never once has a kiss almost brought you to your goddamn knees.

You toss and turn and try to count sheep… So many fucking sheep. Instead of counting all the people you've kissed. It's ridiculous. There has to be a better way to get some sleep that doesn't involve sleeping pills and alcohol.

You've replayed the scene a million times in your head. And when you get to the end, when she walked away from you towards him, you feel regret, because you haven't heard a word from her since. You wanted to text her a hundred times and apologize _every single time_. Tell her how you're stupid and you were drunk and you know it's not something you should have said and you are _not_ a home-wrecker, for Christ's sake. You've seen homes wrecked before and you've seen foster-dads go after foster-moms who have cheated before. And this is not who you want to be.

You actually typed it all out on your iPhone. It was a long text. Long enough that if it had been an old school flip phone, it would have come across in at least five different texts. Your finger hovered over the word "send" for a good three minutes before you decided that _shit, you're not sorry_. And while you are certainly _not a home-wrecker_, you can't help the way you _feel_.

You just finished your hot chocolate with Ruby and Belle and you're trying your hardest to not talk about what happened with Regina. You started telling Ruby, but then stopped and really? Why are you going to gossip about this? It's not really something you want the whole town to know.

But Belle says she saw you talking to Regina and your heart drops to your butt and you blush and pull at your red leather coat and you wish that in all those magic lessons with Regina, one of them had been about teleportation. Of course that's not a lesson you've had the pleasure of learning yet. Secretly you know it's only because once you've mastered that, you're a full-fledged sorceress (if that isn't the weirdest thing to ever cross your mind you don't know what is), which means the Friday morning magic lessons stop… The thought of that is honestly almost too much for you to handle.

"What did you see?" you hiss, probably a little too rushed and forced and goddammit, Emma, cool your jets.

"Whoa," Ruby says, her hand instantly covering yours. "She didn't see Regina kiss you, if that's what you're all upset about."

Your jaw almost hits the table. Whelp. So much for wanting to keep things away from the town gossips.

"Honey, stop looking so surprised. It's free reign when it happens in a public place, Emma," Ruby whispers when she leans forward over the bar counter. Your eyes glance over at Belle and she shrugs, basically agreeing with Ruby and you know she's right, but that means other people may have seen it and oh no, what if Robin saw it?

So when you almost run smack dab into her in the doorway of the diner while you're saying your good-byes to your friends – God, it's so good to be able to use the word _friends_ and _mean_ it – it takes you by surprise way more than it should have. And fuck if you don't smell her instantly... That scent is _intoxicating_.

"Miss Swan," she says, her voice soft and smooth like velvet. Her eyes flutter up to yours before she lowers them, a smile forming on those full, red lips.

You stutter, _of course_. You fumble the words like a stupid football player fumbling a ball on the 1 yard line and you feel instantly ridiculous. When you look up at her, after you've composed yourself, you hope that your eyes tell the story way better than your mouth could ever even attempt to. "Regina, hi," you finally get out. "I'm sorry. I didn't, uh, ya know, expect to see you."

"Interesting, considering I get my coffee every day at the same time," she drawls, leaning in slightly, a sly smile on her lips, her eyes shining. She knows you so much better than you ever anticipated.

You tilt your head, look into her eyes and display your trademark smile. "Well, maybe you're always here to see me. I am typically here first."

"You caught me, Miss Swan." She holds her black, leather gloved hands in the air in mock defeat.

"Nice," you say softly, looking back down at the ground. It's clear to you that in order to have confidence for more than three seconds around her, you need to have some good, ol' fashioned liquid courage, but who wants to start drinking at 6:30 in the morning? You lift your eyes and let them wander over her features… her hair, her eyes, her scar, her lips. _Fuck_. Let's be real here. You'd start drinking at _any time_ if it meant you'd have the courage to make your moves on this woman.

"Are we still on for dinner tomorrow with Henry at your place?" she asks after she clears her throat.

Your place… Oh, fuck. You're going to have to cook and clean. "Yeah." You say it so nonchalantly. Don't let her know you're freaking out. "Unless you have something else going on?"

"No, of course I don't. I look forward to these dinners with our son, Emma." She ends the sentence with a sharp intake of breath, like it pains her physically to say your name. Your eyes soften and your heart flutters and seriously, if you never heard another person speak your name for the rest of your life you'd be happy.

"I know," you breathe. Things are just too awkward now. You've blown it. You took everything that was good between the two of you and fucking killed it with your inability to just be friends with this woman. It's all your fault. And now Robin probably hates you and thank God you learned how to run in a jagged line because dodging arrows may be in your future. Of course, you've heard on more than one occasion that he's a good shot and never misses… Wonder if he even knows that typically while he's speaking you're imagining all the things you could do to her –

"Emma?"

Her voice breaks through your thoughts. You shake your head and refocus. "Yeah? I'm sorry."

"Head in the clouds today, I see."

"Just a lot going on. I better get going. Busy day today." You take a couple steps, brushing against her as you pass and you hear it. It's faint, but you hear it. You _feel_ it. The deep breath she pulls into her lungs. You keep walking. Don't stop now. If you do, it's all over, and forget kissing at The Rabbit Hole. You'll make out with her right now if you don't keep moving. You're halfway down the walkway, almost to the sidewalk when you hear her say your name again. It's louder, it's more firm, and it has so much emotion attached to it that your stomach actually starts to _ache_. You turn, look at her and she smiles and smiles and smiles. You nod your head, return the gesture and then take off towards the Sheriff's station.

When you check your six, looking over your shoulder, she's still watching you. And you know then that it's okay. She's still _there_. And you're still _here_. And fuck if you haven't just fallen a little bit more for her. It hits you again when you swing open the door to the Sheriff's station and see Robin talking to your father. Shit.

_Dodging arrows may be in your future…_


End file.
